The Way of Steam and Pirates
by Forbiddensoul562
Summary: After being overthrown by his crew, Mello, an airship pirate captain, is taken in and cared for by Near, a monastic who seeks an escape from the religious institution he's lived with. Together, the two of them seek to right the wrongs committed against Mello and reclaim his ship. Though, the realities may turn out to be more than Near imagined he was signing on for. MelloxNear.
1. Prologue

The Way of Steam and Pirates

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters used in this story.

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Chapter 1: Prologue

His mother always said that he had the eyes of the sea, with the sparkle to match the essence of the skies above. Perhaps it was that very desire for boundless adventure which ultimately drove him out of his family's house and down to the docks of their quaint port town, to trail on the tailcoats of sailors, fisherman, and the more unspeakable fellows, the pirates.

Perhaps from the very beginning there had been no hope of stopping him from the fate that had captivated his imagination. Perhaps his mother's words had been the fuel injected into his veins to give his life a reason and calling beyond the mediocrity of their stagnant household walls. Regardless of the specific catalyst, no matter how long the small boy spent at the coast, it did nothing to satiate his need to be out in the expansive blue. Nothing in the world could drive him away from the salt of the sea that brushed through his hair, or away from the illustrious sense of freedom that filled his lungs each time his eyes met the coast.

As sure as gravity it was inevitable, that eventually he would come to obtain a ship and crew and finally abandon the town that he'd called home for so long. The seas and the sky whispered to him to chase freedom, and with an iron will he met the challenge. Up into the sky he raised, a magnificent ship powered by steam, the wind, the wonder of an individual, and just a hint of the innocent naivety of childhood desire.

It was a childhood success story.

At least it _was_. For nothing ever really ends up as planned…

From deep beneath the ship deck of the Diesel, away from the hustle and bustle of crew members working to keep them afloat, Captain Keehl sat hunched over his heavy wooden desk situated against the large paned window pointing out the back of his ship, greeting the clouds as they meandered lazily by. On the tabletop of his desk a crudely drawn map of the world stared up at him, the parchment blotched and stained and showing the clear signs of the use and misuse it'd endured throughout the years. His light blue eyes scanned the picture representation he had all but memorized, the gears behind said orbs moved ten times faster than the ship itself ever could.

Mello was a young captain by the widely accepted standard stereotype of his kind, only nineteen and already in full command of his own vessel. The Diesel wasn't anything magnificent or in any means outrageous. It was merely a simple steam powered, turbine ship with the duo capability to travel through both the skies and the seas with ease without ever sacrificing on its speed as other older models had in the past. These were all qualities Mello knew that other pirate captains had already amassed for their own crafts, but it never mattered to him. The ship was his, and that was enough.

His thoughts took him away from the confines of this vessel however as he mulled over the question of where to take himself and his crew now. Where in the world could he take such a meagerly numbered crew to adventure for some form of treasure?

 _'Perhaps a takeover of a pedestrian or merchant ship might do perhaps,'_ He contemplated to himself. Any sort of simple skirmish that would result in them getting money off other ships was always an option to Mello, but at the same time any conscious skirmish he brought them into needed to be small and quick enough to cut out the potential chance of attracting the notice of countries below. Or worse, other pirates in the community.

He shuddered at the thought. Engaging in an air fight with another captain's ship because he'd done something out of his 'jurisdiction' was the absolute last thing he needed right now. He scoffed to himself, kicking his chair up onto the back two legs and balancing with his boots on the desk, staring at the wooden ceiling above. _'Whoever heard of pirates having rules and jurisdictions? What happened to the good ol' days where every ship watched out for themselves?_ ' He thought to himself.

As he glanced back out the windows to the sky drifting away from him, in the back of his mind he knew exactly why there had been restrictions put into place in the first place.

The Rust.

An often terminal blood disease that had spread across the world like wildfire after the proliferation of steam technology took over the people of the world, and decimating nearly half of the world's population. It was an epidemic that seemed to affect people at random, causing their blood to settle within their veins, the result of which often looked, at first, like a rust corroding away the mechanisms of the body.

No one knew what caused it, how it spread, or where it had even come from. The only thing that ever really seemed sure what that the only people who were nearly entirely safe from the Rust were sky pirates.

The epidemic itself did nothing to sway people from the use of their own technology, for it was these mechanisms which had come to make their lives easier. But it did put a strain on the acquisition of goods from one place to another and assuring that they themselves stayed alive from one day to the next.

It subsequently created an even larger rupture between the lives of the wealthy and the poor classes than had ever existed before, but regardless everyone was still feeling the pressure to obtain even the barest of essentials. There existed barely enough supplies to go around to the people, let alone enough for pirates to hijack and steal from the people, regardless of their social class.

Thus, even the lowest castes of society had degraded down to the implementation of 'rules', 'jurisdictions' and 'restrictions', and the pirates were no exception to this. Eventually they too developed a set of unspoken rules, translated only between pirates, and regulated by their entire community.

A pirate and their crew were only to take from ships within your language speaking boundaries. Claiming territory to keep other pirates from hunting civilian ships within that area had been strictly forbidden. Those two rules were the only ones the Captain ever really bothered to remember. Despite the degraded state that humanity was in he retained the mindset that pirates should never allow themselves to be burdened with rules as though they were creating their own social levels and authority. It utterly defeated the point of being outlaws.

Sighing, his eyes drifted back down to the map as the original question arose back into his mind. Where would he go? Where was the best opportunity to find another air ship to take hostage and loot?

 _'Just let it come to you. The seas and skies are a vast playing field. If you go looking, you'll never find what you're looking for.'_ An old voice chimed in the dusted halls of his memories; they were words he'd been told years ago before they had ever really had any meaning to him. But since taking the wheel of the Diesel, such practical wisdom had never failed him before.

"Just wait for it, hm?" Mello said aloud, leaning his wooden chair even further back and shutting his eyes, allowing the pure breathing melody of his ship to overtake her senses.

His attentive ears knew exactly where to pick up every sound. Through the lack of the visual spectrum he could suddenly hear the movement of steam through the ship's organs, creating life through its iron veins and capillaries to keep everyone aboard securely aloft. Beneath his chair he could feel the soft vibrations of the wooden floor as the ship's spinning metal turbines on the side of its wooden outer body shivered in anticipation of his command. The Diesel made him feel utterly alive in a way nothing else had before. It gave his body a soul, it pumped his blood stream with a strength he'd never known, and gave him the determination to chase the horizon. It was the very mechanism which gave his heart a reason to beat, and the reason his blood continued to pump with such a carnal need.

 _Bang!_

The door to his captain's quarters slammed open, bringing him up out of his daze and as his eyes opened he could feel the oneness he had with the ship slip back into remission. "What is it?" He asked, annoyance dripping from his words.

"Captain," The deep, familiar voice rang across the room. It was that of his first in command, and above all his partner in crime, Rod, who stood in the doorway utterly unfazed by the blonde's tone. "You're needed on the deck."

Mello's look moved from the window in front of him that pointed out onto the night sky finally over to Rod, taking in his shirtless form that clearly displayed his thick muscles that were dotted by scars from battles at sea. There was something lurking behind those small eyes, something that put Mello on end, "Ship spotted?"

Rod shook his head, "Not quite."

"Then what the hell is it this late at night?" Mello huffed, his own annoyance growing as he brought his chair back down on all fours with a loud _thud_ as it hit the wooden floor. "I'm busy right now. I don't have time to be-"

"Believe me, it's important."

Mello watched him carefully, scrutinizing over every detail of the man he knew so well, searching him desperately for any clue as to what this was about. No sirens were going off, there was no fire let alone smoke so nothing was wrong with the ship, and surely if they had been boarded before they could make a getaway Rod would be a bit more animate about it then his current stoicism was letting on.

 _'What the hell…'_ He thought, but finally sighed and reached over his desk to grab the well-worn black tricorn hat off the surface, positioning it on his head before slipping his arms into his red coat that hung on the chair as he stood up, the motions all coming with practiced fluidity. "This had better be good."

He crossed the room, hardly bothering to offer his first mate even the quickest of glances as he slipped past him at the door, instead moving from the lit confines of his private quarters out into the darkness of the deck. He immediately froze. "What the hell is this?"

Just outside the doors of his room he found the deck of the ship to be filled with the members of his ship circled around the area, each and every one of them holding somber* or angry* expressions, Mello noted as his look moved over every one of his crew members.

His arms were suddenly grabbed from behind, his look whipping around finding Rod the source of the sudden immobilizing pressure, "Get the hell off of me! What the hell are you doing?!"

"You're done, Mello." Rod stated.

" _Captain._ " The blonde spit.

"We're done following your orders and commands." He continued. "All of us joined you years ago because we wanted to actually _be_ pirates. We wanted to take over ships, and to get rich. You told us that we were going to fight our way to the top, but all we ever do is coast through these skies like some merchant ship!"

Mello's look narrowed on him, then looking back to the rest of the men, "It's not that _easy_." His tone was low and deadly as his heart hammered away in his chest, searching for any sign in any of his men that they didn't want to do this. If Rod was going to mutiny him, there was no way that all of them wanted to go along with this. "It's not that simple anymore! There are rules-"

"Rules?" Rod spoke louder. "Rules are for the nobility and the common people. No, you obey those rules because you don't have what it _takes_ to go out and take what you want for yourself!"

"So what are you going to do? Start fights with everyone in the world?" How idiotic, Mello thought spitefully. Sure, maybe Mello wasn't willing to go to that level to get to where he wanted. But there was a method to getting to the top, one which did not include making enemies with your own kind.

"If that's what it takes. You had your chance for ten years, Mello. It's about time you found yourself a new calling. You're still young, after all." Rod goaded him as his lips pulled back into a sick smile, beginning to move from his spot over to the side of the ship, dragging Mello along with him.

"Fuck you, Rod!" He practically shouted, fighting desperately against his tight hold, though in the back of his mind asking what he would _possibly_ do even if he did get free? Grab the revolvers* holstered to his side? What would killing one or two crew members do when it was all of them against him?

His eyes shot through the groups of his crew members, desperately searching until finally his eyes caught sight of a flash of red hair. "Matt!" The weird, quiet tinkerer he assigned the job of watching for ships and handling the sails from the mast. Everything about the expression in his green eyes was that of regret. "Don't do this." He tried, speaking only to him.

Matt's green eyes moved over to Mello, meeting those blue orbs momentarily, his lips parting slightly, "I can't do anything, Captain."

A rush of fire shot through Mello's systems as he desperately fought against Rod's hold with new fervor just as they approached the railing to the side of the ship. "You fucking traitors!" He screamed against the cold night air. "You have no fucking chance out there against all of them! You are one damn ship against a world of outlaws!"

Rod chuckled loudly, "You see, Mello, that's where you're wrong. Why do you think everyone turned on you and is following me now? Because when I say I'll lead them to riches, I _mean_ it and I deliver. We've already got our first contract."

 _'Contract?'_

"So you're hired thugs now?" This was getting worse by the second. His men were turning on him to give up to become hired mercenaries? How deplorable. But still… he couldn't help wondering about this.

"It's none of your business." Rod told him, the sick smile remaining across his features as he forced Mello's body up off the deck, holding him precariously over the side of the ship.

The sight of blackness greeted Mello's eyes, the sheer imagination of how much space there was between their location and the ocean below running through his mind causing his heart to somehow race even faster beneath his ribs. "You can't do this! This is _my_ ship! I brought all of you on board!" Again his eyes shot over to the side, "Are you just going to let them fucking do this to me, Matt?!"

"Nobody's going to help you, now. It's too late for you to save your own skin. You were never a very good captain anyway, Mello. Don't worry I'll take good care of the Diesel for you, though. Consider it my gift to you, in your memory."

The grip that had been holding Mello captive and the only thing keeping him aboard his own ship suddenly vanished.

The blonde's heart shot up into his throat and suddenly there was nothing left but the rush of air screaming through his ears and the absence of anything solid meeting his feet as he tumbled out of the sky; an angel who'd wanted for nothing but to see his dreams a reality amidst a world not designed for him suddenly falling from the only grace knowable by an outlaw.

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A/N: For those who follow my Tumblr this piece will be very familiar, as I published it there last week. Since then I've gotten a good amount of feedback on it so I've decided to post it up here for people to read and comment on, and so that in the near future if I want to write this I'm not restricted to posting it just on there. So, anyway, welcome to the introduction of not only this story, but my first ever attempt at writing an AU! Hopefully you're as excited for this journey as I am! I'd love to hear any comments you have so far!

Please review  
 _-Forbiddensoul562_


	2. The Way of a Monastic

The Way of Steam and Pirates

Disclaimer: Please see Chapter 1 for full disclaimer.

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Chapter 2: The Way of a Monastic

The movement of time is a tranquil wave progressing into the horizon of the future, and we as humans are little more than seaweed mercilessly drifting over its every trough and crest; its own natural progressions representing our own repetitious successes and failures. History followed the melodic dance with stunning precision.

Years ago humanity believed it had found the answers to their need for energy, for light, for _hope_ through harnessing the power of steam, which was manipulated through turbines of great and powerful pieces of technology. At once the slumbering world seemed to come alive as it never had before, exhaling out its own breath of life though the nostrils of factories and giant ships floating through the skies.

As this technology was harnessed and further developed, soon machines of all sorts and designs became offered and used by every range of people in their daily lives.

My gaze shifted from watching the bustling street that lingered below my window to instead the sky above, where various military and cargo ships seemed to meander lazily through expansive blue canvass; above the trials of everyday life, their very existence loomed like metal clouds casting their own shadows over those of us shackled to the Earth.

The sight of their metal bodies and the vastness of their white sails pulled at my imagination, leaving me wondering what it must be like to soar high above the clouds, and to look down at the rest of the world with hardly a care at all. To them, our problems must have seemed so trivial and mundane.

But just as the image was birthed in my sights I had to push it away again, for such places were not meant for me to embody, let alone even let myself muse on. In life there are those who are destined to hold the place of wonder and the rest of us who were meager enough only to dream from behind the stone walls of our enclosures.

Fate had made it known that my place wasn't meant to be among the clouds in the sky, but instead kept within the monastery walls of the Natural Order; the religious organization where I had been raised my entire life.

But that didn't mean I still didn't _want_ that sort of magnificent life for myself.

When technology slipped its way into the lives of everyday people to the point of seemingly becoming their very lifeblood, the Order was established as a religious society whose discourse included the shunning of all technology as a means to return to the perceived natural order of the world. Their belief held that only though these means would the divines spare humanity of the Rust which continued to decimate so much of the world's population.

And so we lived, a religious society organized within the heart of mankind's technologically developed cities, working to help those in need and yet entirely unable to engage in even the simplest luxuries offered by machinery.

I turned away from the window, looking down as I smoothed out the folds of the soft white material of the simple button up shirt and pants covering my body; the materials specifically chosen to emulate the look of their ideal notion of natural purity. Or so they said. I could never be sure if that was actually how it made me feel, yet still I continued to adorn the material, and likewise made no attempt to change the white hair atop my head.

I knew as I adjusted the material that I couldn't continue to hide out in this room; that I was just delaying the inevitable. _'It's nearly afternoon now. They're going to start wondering where I am.'_ I told myself, turning my attention to the empty communal bedroom I shared with many of the other practitioners. Everyone had left for breakfast and to begin their daily duties hours ago, yet I remained lingering in the space, letting the lives of other mesmerize me rather than focusing on the life and responsibilities I led.

They said that it takes all sorts of people to make the world spin. But whoever coined that saying must have been someone of high class because every time I compared myself to everyone else I couldn't help feeling like nothing more than the laborer that worked day and night to spin the world while everyone else were the ones feeling the caress of air against their faces.

But I suppose that that injustice wasn't my concern for now, either, though.

Moving over to the door and exiting out at once released me from the quiet solidarity of the empty bedroom, replacing it with the bustling atmosphere of the Order going about their daily tasks. I had only to find my own place within the contained madness.

"Near," I immediately heard called to me from the side; looking over I found the abbot of the Order, Roger, approaching me. "Where have you been all morning? You weren't at breakfast earlier." He stated with just the slightest hint of worry to his tone. Though it was the suspicion in his beady eyes that seemed to convey that truthfully he was worried about the efficacy of his system when even one gear was out of place. Did that make him selfish?

I gave a small shrug, "My apologies, Roger. I wasn't feeling well earlier so I skipped breakfast and it seems I lost track of time in the process."

The expression in his eyes deepened, and I wondered if he honestly thought himself to be conveying any sense of wariness, rather than the worry of his own agenda. Though, at the same time perhaps I was projecting… "Are you feeling alright now?"

I nodded, "I'm fine." I responded, proceeding to take a step away from him in an attempt to end our conversation.

But his sudden words stopped me before I could create any real distance between us. "That's good to hear. Well, since you missed breakfast you missed the assigning of roles for the day."

 _'Wonderful…'_ I thought with a heavy internal sigh as I fought back the urge to roll my eyes. I already knew what this meant for me.

"Today you'll be assisting in the medical ward. You should head down there, I'm sure the doctors and attendants will need your help." His smile grew larger with each word that passed across his lips as his arms folded behind his back and he began to turn away from me.

I made no move to respond to him, unsure what would escape me if my lips were allowed to part, so he proceeded to turn and stroll away, leaving my look to slowly turn into a glare upon his back. Of all the places I could be put, of all the tasks he could have given me of course he would give the most menial of them all as punishment for skipping the morning rituals.

I sighed, accepting my determined fate and moving away from the room towards the exit of the living quarters and the building. The Order was known to often provide aid for those afflicted with the Rust, and were even some of the greatest proponents of studying it to find a cure. I found nothing inherently _wrong_ with working in the medical ward, but with such a depressing atmosphere lingering within it, it was often not looked highly upon.

I made my way to the medical ward, a building positioned next to the monastery that had been attached and converted years ago to not only house the afflicted, but in order to devote the higher floors to the study of the disease rather than keeping them entirely separate.

Even just gazing up to the darkened windows of the higher levels fueled a fire in me that wanted to be up there, to be working at the puzzle that afflicted an innumerable amount of people, and killed so many more. For now though, it would have to be enough just to serve them.

I entered into the building, moving from the once consecrated holy interior to the confines that were dark and bleak with the presence of death looming over every inch of the space. The area was more or less unorganized with cots set up around the wide expansive area with bodies laying about in them while others were placed in bordering rooms that branched off from the interior, the people in those being sectioned off for study.

"Near." One of the doctors who attended the space more permanently than I called to me. "Good, you've finally shown up." He stepped out from one of the side rooms, giving me the slightest amount of attention as he pulled down the mask that had been covering his mouth, and up on the goggles that had been over his eyes. "I need you to go take some food over to our newest resident." His tone as cut with obvious annoyance.

"Resident?" Interesting word choice.

The doctor nodded as he crossed the space over to one of the side beds, beginning to check the vitals of the person lying there. "Yes. He was left here last night, but he doesn't have the Rust."

"Then why is he still here?"

He shrugged, "Roger said that it wasn't in the Order's benefit to turn anyone away." He huffed loudly, "A consideration which even extends to pirates, it seems."

 _'A pirate?'_ As in… a criminal with a ship who sails through the skies with only the care of when to dock and when to attack? A flair of fear and something akin to excitement sparked through my systems. I nodded, "Well, we must respect what Roger says, I suppose."

Offering a shrug the doctor motioned me away from him and I was happy to oblige, feeling my heart rise up to my throat as I moved across the room to where a makeshift kitchen had been set up, in which a large pot sat atop a fire brewing up a thick, brown soup.

Ladling some into a bowl I then proceeded through the building, eyes trailing over each person I came across until finally I found the 'resident' that'd been allotted to my care. They had placed him in the farthest corner of the room, he sat against the wall with vibrant long blonde hair that was now oily from neglect shielding his face from sight, adorned in predominantly black clothing except for the dirtied material of a coat that I could tell at one time had been a deep, violent shade of red.

I held my breath as though it would slow the quickening of my heartbeat as a singular thought rushed through my head: _'If I'm ever going to get out of the Order… this may be my only opportunity.'_

There was something lingering in the air about him that said danger; that said he was an outlaw. I'd never encountered anything of this sort before, and I could already feel myself hanging off the presented opportunity.

Where could I even begin though? I was used to dealing with people afflicted by the Rust who were at the end of their rope and who no longer cared for their own well-being, but this… This was a different matter entirely.

I stepped hesitantly forward toward him, "Hello?" I spoke quietly, bending slightly to see if I could peer beyond his obscuring bangs, "Can you hear me?"

There was a momentary pause of silence that was just long enough to lead me to believe that the venture was lost; that he was completely out and I'd be stuck with nothing to do. But then, "Of course I can hear you. I'm not fucking deaf." His hoarse voice finally spoke up as his head lifted, revealing shocking blue eyes staring back at me.

I swallowed, feeling the pressure suddenly being exuded off him, more than likely feeling threatened within the unfamiliar surroundings. Surprising considering this was probably one of the least threatening places he could have ended up at… "Sorry, it was hard to tell with your apparent catatonia."

He hardly seemed to pay me any mind as his gaze moved past me, surveying the rest of the room to further gauge the area he was in. "Who the hell thought it was funny to drop me here, of all places? The fucking Order? Seriously, you've _got_ to be kidding me."

I bit my tongue, reminding myself that it was the objective of our Order to stay on track rather than be moved by the often foolish words of the ignorant. "I couldn't tell you. But if you don't mind me asking, who are you, exactly?"

Those piercing eyes seemed to rip into my soul as his attention then turned entirely to me and his head lifted up further, "Don't you know it's rude to ask things like that?" I could hear what he meant, that it was rude to ask those questions among _his_ kind of people. Thankfully, though, we weren't among _his_ people, but mine, and here we especially liked knowing the people we were dealing with.

"My apologies. I suppose I don't really need to ask, anyway. It seems evident enough to the people here that you're a pirate. Honestly I'm really just curious about how a pirate ended up here, rather than still being in the skies."

His expression shifted, eyeing me with suspicion before his look fell to the bowl in my hands, "Is that for me?" It seemed to be his attempt at steering the conversation to a different direction.

I nodded, "Tell me who you are and I'll give it to you."

A small smirk peeled its way across his lips, "Now that's a bit better. Use what advantages you have. Everything should come for a price, even if your price is a stupid one. If you want to know so bad, my name is Captain Mello Keehl. I was the captain of a ship named The Diesel."

Having been given the information requested I handed over the bowl, "Was?" I questioned, "So what you mean is that you're not _actually_ a captain anymore. What happened?"

He cringed just slightly as he realized what he'd let slip through his own words. But then he shook his head, bringing the bowl and spoon up to his lips seeming to inhale a bit of the contents before responding. "I answered your question, so now you tell me who you are. That seems only polite."

My look narrowed on him, reaching up to twirl a lock of hair if only to have something to do with my hands, "So what you mean to say is that you bend the rules to fit whatever situation you want to occur. Typical of a pirate. But in any case, my name is Near."

"That your real name?"

"Of course not, it's the religious name that was given to me when I was ordained. Is Mello yours?"

He shook his head, just as I expected. So, we were already establishing the parameters around each other with facades of the false images we presented to the rest of the world, or in the very least to the separate spheres of the world for which we lived in. Strange to find them interconnecting here, of all places. "So what happened?" I pressed onwards, genuinely curious about where it was Mello had come from.

He was quiet as he took in more of the soup, then sighed, "Apparently my crew didn't like how I was running my ship. Five months ago they forcibly removed me from command; by which I mean the assholes literally dropped me out of the sky and stole my ship." I could hear the indignation on his words, but more than that I could hear the subtle signs of shame resounding off of him. Being captain appeared to be the pride of his identity which made me wonder why exactly he was still stuck on the ground with the likes of us after such a long time.

But then something struck me about his story. "You're lying."

He looked up from where he'd been spooning more of the contents of the bowl into his mouth with a fervor that suggested he hadn't actually eaten a proper meal in days. "I'm a pirate, not a liar." He said it as though it was absurd to even relate the two together

I shook my head, "They dropped you out of the sky? Just… straight into the ocean? From that sort of distance, at the speed you would have accumulated, if you actually hit the water your entire body would have been utterly destroyed, to put it lightly."

He looked up, glaring at me, "Are you a fucking monastic or a physicist? Look, I don't know how I survived. I don't remember what happened. I just remember being dropped off my own ship and it falling away from me. For all I know some other ship was right below them and I just fell onto their deck but passed out from shock. Who the hell knows?"

I nodded, willing to accept the mystery of his survival for at least the moment as there were more pressing matters I needed to attend to. "So, Mello, at the end of the day you're not really a captain, then."

"I _am_ a captain." He stated with a fiery glare.

"Without a ship you're not." I could feel that he was about ready to throw the bowl at me. "Regardless, what I'd like to know is why you are still in this state five months after being overthrown? Shouldn't you have taken back your own ship, or in the very least acquired an entirely new ship and crew and started over?"

He shook his head, "It's not that simple."

"Have you tried?"

He pulled the bowl down, giving me yet another glare, "What exactly do you expect me to do, go down to the docks and miraculously rig up another crew, steal someone's ship just to take back The Diesel and my old crew and whatever idiotic contract they had been given in the first place?"

"Well, if you want to keep calling yourself a captain instead of merely holding on to the fumes of the past, then yes that is exactly what I'd expect you to do."

He regarded me momentarily with that lingering bout of suspicion, playing over my words as though they hadn't already been playing through his own mind for five months. What was the difference between then and now which finally gave the idea an ounce of weight or persuasive sway?

Finally the bowl was put down on the ground and he began to push himself up, "Fine. You think it's so easy to do then we'll see about that. Sure, I'll do it. But _you're_ coming with me so you can see that this isn't so easily done, since you think you can just tell people what they should be doing with their lives. Consider yourself my first mate."

His hand was extended out to me, his image appearing over me against a white light. Like a savior against the suddenly open door of my stone cage, offering me freedom. _'Just as planned.'_ I thought to myself, my heart again picking up in my chest. This was my once in a lifetime chance to see the world, to experience the breeze of the Earth spinning and for once not feel as though I was damned to remained shackled to the Earth, to the way of life I'd lived for so long.

I nodded, taking his hand, "You do realize I'm not a sailor, and much less a pirate let alone even an outlaw, correct?"

A confident smirk crossed his face, the expression immediately infusing my being with a desire to place my trust with him to do with as he will. How reckless I could be… how reckless I was _so_ _willing_ to let myself become. If he was the tempter sent by the divines to test my convictions, then I wanted nothing more than to be damned.

He nodded, "It's fine. Give me time and I'll turn you into a fitting pirate. Welcome aboard, Near."

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A/N: I apologize for waiting to upload this second chapter! I had planning on putting it out with Dice on Monday, but I completely forgot. Anyway, this story has become my 'for fun' story, and thus I'm not stick with any schedule for it, instead updating whenever I finish chapters, and since I've been wanting to work on it a lot, expect frequent updates! The next chapter is already in the works! But until then, I would of course love to hear any thoughts and comments you have about this!

Please review  
 _-Forbiddensoul562_


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